


A Fever You Can't Sweat Out

by orphan_account



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Basically Brendon being dumb, Bullying, Coming Out, Denial, F/M, Freeform, High School AU, I'm Sorry, M/M, Pet Names, first person POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:47:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1472080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I tried to stay focused, but my thoughts changed and bounced and scattered so much, I ended up wondering if Ryan sings, and what he sounded like.<br/>~~~~<br/>Brendon's a 17 year old high school kid who has a set group of friends and a pretty chill life. A transfer student comes in one day, and Brendon is nice and befriends him. A chance encounter changes both of their lives, definitely for the better.<br/>Maybe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide Is Press Coverage

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fic ever written like this, so please cut me some slack u.u;;
> 
> Beta'd by my stunning girlfriend. Find her on tumblr on thegirlwhoexterminated

I woke up to the blaring sound of my alarm screeching in my left ear from my bedside table. I slammed the “off” button with so much force, the clock nearly fell of the stand. I gave it a quick glance to check the time-- why did I even bother to do that? I already knew it was going to show 7:00-- before rolling out of bed. Just like every morning, I nearly tripped over the large pile of laundry that had accumulated on the floor next to my bed. I stumbled through my messy room to the bathroom, luckily I didn’t have to walk very far to get there considering it was attached to my bedroom, then I groggily stripped and hopped in the shower.

Ten minutes later, I toweled off my hair and paused to admire the messy, haphazard way it looked before I brushed it down, just to tame it a little- only enough to get past my mother.

I had twenty more minutes to get dressed and eat breakfast, which was plenty of time. Maybe. I had a tendency to take a shit ton of time to pick my outfit for the day, which, more often than not, consisted of a really tight shirt and skinny jeans.

As I trotted downstairs, clad in a Nirvana t-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans that were painfully obvious they were from the girl’s section, I tried to figure out what day it was. Let’s see, yesterday I slept in... That could have been any day, though, I had skipped school on more than one occasion just to sleep in, despite my mom’s protests.

Since my own memory was being of little help this early in the morning, I called for my mother.

“Mom! What day is it?”

“Monday, and you’re getting your ass to school today,” she replied from the laundry room. I groaned; I was not looking forward to the long week ahead. I walked into the kitchen, sat down at the table, and downed the glass of orange juice she had set out for me and then began devouring the waffles that were still hot enough from the toaster to burn my tongue. I took a moment to look out the window next to me; the sun was still low in the sky. Too early for me to be up and fully functional, but it made for a pretty view.

 

I was standing outside of my house, waiting for the bus to pull up. I really wished mom would get a car already; we had enough money, didn’t we? It made no sense why I had to wait for the bus just because my mom refused to buy me a car. I had my license already because I was seventeen. I’d be able to get to school much earlier and be able to spend more time with my friends. And, what I would end up telling my mother, I could work on homework or extra credit from the teachers to bring up my grades. I’m not sure she would buy that though.

 

I finally arrived in the school parking lot only ten minutes before the late bell rings, silently hating the bus and everybody on it. The people from my neighborhood were all extremely religious, because we lived right next to a church, and all they would talk about on the ride to school on Mondays was the mass yesterday. While I didn’t mind it (I wasn’t the type of person to hate on someone else’s religion) I really didn’t like how they’d _always_ find a way to bring me into the conversation, even after I told them that I didn’t really want to partake in that. I just found it kind of rude. Really rude, actually.

 

“Urie!”

I heard my name being called and recognised the voice; it belonged to none other than Jon, one of my friends. The teen was being trailed by a few other boys. I waved, greeting them all, but noticing Spencer wasn’t there.

“Hey guys. Have you seen Spence?”

“Yeah, he’s staying home ‘sick’,” Jon said, looking rather unimpressed.

“He’s skipping a lot lately, haven’t you noticed?” Gabe chimed in.

“Yeah, that’s no fair. What's he doing anyway, smoking pot?” I griped. “He should share.”

Jon looked scared. "We are _not_ getting you high, not after what happened last time."

I had to stop for a moment and recall what did happen. Didn't I try to mack on some waitress? Whatever, I didn't exactly want to remember right now.

As our group walked into school, I noticed a kid talking to the principal, a kid who did not seem nervous to be with a 6'4" buff guy. Mr. Hanks was like a bodybuilder and terrified most of the student body, but the boy looking up at him had a placid face and seemed more bored than anything. Mr. Hanks glanced up as I passed by and his face lit up.

"Urie! Come here."

Jon pats me on the back as I walked towards the two.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Who do you have next?" He asked, his voice booming above me. I tried not to wince.

"Uh, Mrs. Burns?"

"Great! Escort Mr. Ross, he has first period with you."

I glance at the kid. He's just slightly taller than me, with wild dark hair-- it looks like he towelled it and just left it light that. However, I have seen and done every kind of hairstyle that exists. His hair I could deal with.

It was his eyes that I couldn’t. They were a stunning deep brown that seemed to bore through my skin. I wasn't sure whether to be terrified or attracted.

Both. Both is good.

He looked me up and down before snorting. "Kay, I'm Ryan. Who's this Burns and what do I have to do?"

His voice was soft and relatively monotone; it felt girly somehow. I was noticeably taken aback by it, and he closed his mouth. I could've sworn I saw a flicker of embarrassment on his face.

I started down the hall that held my locker, Ryan following me.

"I'm Brendon," I started, "and Mrs. Burns is a lit teacher. She's pretty laid back, but God forbid you forget your textbook." he paused. "Do you even have your books?"

He nodded. “I was told they’re all in my locker, but I don’t know where that is.”

The late bell then decided to ring. Shit. I dropped my bag and fished around for a pencil and a piece of paper.

“What’s your number?” I asked as I scribbled a faux late note.

He wrinkled his nose at me. “You’ve only known me for, like, 5 minutes.”

I rolled my eyes. “Your locker number, dipshit, I don’t want your phone number.”

“Oh. 728.”

“That’s the same hall as mine,” I mused, finishing writing the note and heading to my locker. I stopped in front of it, I thought for a second, then turned around. Sure enough, the locker right across from mine happened to be Ryan’s.

“That’s yours.”

“Really? That’s easy.” He pulled out a piece of paper and unlocked his locker with ease before pulling out his lit book.

I stuffed the note in my pocket, noticing how Ryan watched me.

“What’s that?” he questioned, tilting his head slightly.

“Just a note to get us into class late. I’m good at forging,” I replied. “Mrs. Burns doesn’t let people in late.”

“Do you sell late notes?” Ryan teased. I grinned.

“I tried, freshman year. Hanks busted me before I could make 50 bucks.”

He rolled his eyes and smirked at me. “For some reason, I can see it.”

I playfully nudged him with my shoulder before escorting him to our first period.

 

Lunch time rolled around, 4th period, and when I walked into the cafeteria with Jon and Gabe, we saw Ryan looking slightly lost, standing in the middle of the room. I sidled up behind him and gently tugged on his shirt.

“Do you have your lunch or are you buying?” I whispered in his ear. He turned around a fraction of an inch and replied, “buying.”

I pulled once more on his shirt and walked off to the lunch line. He took the hint and followed.

Once we were in the line, he sighed.

“Do you have your money?” I asked. He nodded.

“What do you want?” I pointed to the line of foods. He shrugged.

“I’ll get the nachos, I guess. Are they good?”

“They’re one of the best things this school sells,” I reply.

We both get our trays of nachos and pay, then I start towards the table I always sit at. I can practically feel the awkwardness pricking off of Ryan as he follows me through the sea of people. For some reason, he didn’t sit down when I do. Instead, he stayed standing, staring at the seat.

“Are you going to join us, or did you make new friends?” I asked. It came out meaner and more sarcastic than I meant it.

“Are you saying we’re friends?” Ryan retorted, plopping on of the shitty stools attached to the table. I smirked and raised an eyebrow, leaving him to wonder.

Gabe looked at Ryan, confused.

“Who’s this?” he whispered to Jon, who shrugged.

“This is Ryan. He’s new, I guess,” I offered.

“Transferred from Gorman, actually,” Ryan added.

Jon squinted at him. “What grade are you in?”

“11th. I’m a junior.”

“A junior?” I asked incredulously. “You look like a sophomore.”

Ryan glared at me while Gabe snickered.

“Don’t be making enemies already, Urie,” Jon chuckled.

I raised my hands in defeat. “Yeah, yeah, got it. Sorry for thinking you were younger. Who does your hair?”

Unfortunately, Ryan wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were staring over my shoulder, so I turned around and saw nothing but an ass. Not just any ass, it was Jacob Lark’s ass. Jacob Lark is perhaps the gayest kid in the school, and I’ll admit that he is totally attractive. For a guy, at least.

Suddenly it clicked. I turned back around and stared at Ryan. He glanced at his hands and suddenly became very interested in his lunch.

Woah. Ryan’s gay. Or bisexual, at least. And he didn’t look very proud of it.

I smiled at him as friendly as I could, although I’m not sure he saw me.

“Hey, Ryan,” I whispered. He looked up and I noticed a flicker of fear in his eyes. I smiled again, and he returned it weakly.

“So what do you think of the lunches?” Gabe intervenes, sensing the awkward silence.

Ryan blinked and shrugged his face back to its usual passive-aggressive, blank look.

“It’s fine. Better than Gorman at least.”

“Wow, that sounds terrible. How bad was the food there?” Jon questioned.

“Awful,” Ryan groaned. “The hot dogs _bounced_.”

“What the fuck.” Gabe was staring at Ryan. “Is that legal?”

“Dunno, but mom refused to let me eat anything from there. She made me bring my lunch.”

I pulled a face. I hated bringing my lunch. Mom made me if we ever had too many leftovers.

“So why did you transfer here?” Gabe asked as he leaned against the wall behind him.

Ryan glanced down. “This place has better grades?”

His voice shook a little, enough for me to notice, so I changed topics quickly. I wanted him to feel comfortable here.

“What do you have next?” I rushed. He looked a little grateful.

“Gym,” he answered.

I had that next, too.

“After that?”

He rolled his eyes. “My schedule is right here.” He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and pushed it towards me across the table.

I checked, and found out that we had _four_ classes together.

“Why do we have so many of the same classes?” I mused out loud.

He smirked at me and I felt my stomach do a little flip.

“Maybe it’s fate,” he replied so softly I swore I misheard him.

 

We were in the locker rooms after gym, and Ryan had claimed the locker next to mine-- and fucking _hell_ he stripped like a god damn tease. I had the treat of watching him take off his shirt, and he did it like a girl, pulling the bottom hem up and sliding it over his shoulders-- and his stomach _rolled_ , like he was giving a lap dance. I tried to ignore the way my cheeks heated up at the sight, so I turned away and changed back into regular clothes. I mentally kicked myself-- _come on Brendon, you could’ve seen him take off his pants, I wonder how he does that?_ \-- and took a deep breath. Fucking shit snarky new kid and practically stalking me through all of my classes. Not my fault he somehow managed to look attractive while changing.

I shook my head. Shit. I needed to get home and take a shower because I suddenly felt extra dirty, even more than usually after gym class. And we still had 2 more periods.

Fuck. This week has already proved to be unexpectedly interesting, and it’s only Monday.

 

Jon, Spencer and I had 7th period Music Studies together, and of course Spencer wasn’t there today, but Ryan was.

“Fucking hell, kid,” I heard Jon mutter. I grinned, watching the way Ryan’s gorgeous brown eyes shifted- _fuck_ I can’t think about that right now.

“Hey Ryan.” I waved him over to where we were sitting, which was off in a corner-- Ms. Gloria didn’t care where we sat any day, as long as we did our work.

Ryan walked over and sat down, sighing loudly, and I couldn’t help but to notice how his hair fell over his eyes, how he pushed it out of the way absent-mindedly.

“I’m so ready for the day to be over,” he grumbled.

“I hear you,” I replied, leaning back into the chair and watching Ms. Gloria pass out worksheets. “Wanna work in a group with us?”

“Sure?” Ryan looked confused. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“The teacher doesn’t care, honestly,” Jon muttered, accepting his sheet with a short “thanks.”

I couldn’t help but to laugh at Ryan’s expression, which could only be described as total befuddlement.

“Not all our teachers are like this, and Ms. Gloria just hates having to teach,” I explained, pulling out a pencil and a notebook to write on. He followed suit, and I observed the way his hand curved when he wrote- Jesus _Christ_ Brendon, keep your eyes to yourself- but he wrote his name so _perfectly_. I shook my head and tried to focus on my own paper, glancing at Jon’s for answers. He turned around pointedly, making it impossible to see his paper. I sighed and went back to my own, my mind wandering to whatever I’d be doing later that week. I was pretty sure mom would make me clean my room, seeing as it looked like utter shit. Maybe I could invite Spencer over and he’d share whatever he was doing that was making him skip.

It was probably weed, or maybe he was trying to act like a college kid again. Either way, I needed to have _someone_ over after school. I go insane if I don’t.

Maybe Jon would come? I doubted it, he didn’t exactly like going to other people’s houses, unless they were having a party. But he did like movies.

“Hey Jon, wanna go see a movie later?” I asked.

He shrugged. “There’s nothing good playing.”

“There’s The Wolf of Wall Street,” Ryan offered before realising he interrupted, and look back down at his paper.

I raised an eyebrow, smiling.

“Do you want to come with us? I’ll ask Gabe, too.”

“Uh, sure. When?”

Jon quickly pulled up times on his phone.

“There’s a playing Wednesday afternoon, and one Friday. If we go Friday, we get a student discount and free popcorn.”

“Let’s go see a different movie Wednesday,” I said. “And then see Wall Street on Friday.”

“What else is playing?” Ryan asked.

Jon scrolled through some pages.

“The Lego Movie, Frozen, uhh… Grand Budapest Hotel.”

I gripped Jon’s hand excitedly. “Let’s see Frozen!”

“No.”

“But Jooooonn,” I whined.

“No. You’ve seen it, like, ten times.”

I heard Ryan snicker so I turned to look at him, squinting.

“I guess Brendon,” he choked out between giggles, “needs to let it go.”

Jon stood up abruptly, letting all of his papers fall from his lap.

“No. No, fuck you Ryan, fuck you Brendon. I’m done.”

He stormed out, and Ryan fell out of his chair from laughing so hard.

I grinned with him, wondering if he wanted to see Frozen with me. I may have only known him for a day, but he liked puns and nachos, so we were cool.

I watched as he climbed back into his chair.

“Hey, Ross, wanna go see Frozen then?”

I silently crossed my fingers.

He shrugged, regaining his composure.

“I’ve only seen it three times, so sure. But only if one of your other friends come.”

I nodded; fair enough. “Kay.”

We went back to work on our papers, and finished right before the bell, when Jon came back and forgave Ryan for his shit pun.

 

I went directly home to take a shower; the icky feeling hadn’t let me all day. After giving mom a quick peck on the cheek once I walked through the front door, I ran upstairs and instantly stripped, throwing my dirty clothes across the room. I hurried into my bathroom, and turned on the shower.

As I waited for the water to heat up, my mind wandered. I first thought about the amount of homework that was giving over the course of today (which was way too much for a Monday), then to my classes, then to gym. I mused about how much I’d have to train in order to get on the soccer team. Not that I wanted to, but I was so. Fucking. Bored. Jon didn’t usually just hang out and Gabe didn’t really do anything without Spencer, who basically just hung around his house.

I played with the idea of starting a garage band, but who would join? I didn’t think it would go very far, anyways.

Aaand as soon as I got in the shower, I started thinking about Ryan. He was an odd character, to say the least, with his bordering emo looks and snarky personality. I didn’t know whether I found him hilarious or annoying, but I think I was leaning more towards attractive.

I rested my head against the shower wall, letting the water cascade over me from the barely-taller-than-me showerhead. I never really bothered to question the fact that I was or wasn’t straight, although I did toy with idea of bisexuality for a few months. I mean, sure, girls are pretty, but I didn’t think I could date one. I just didn’t feel anything special when talking to them, or looking at them, other than “hey she’s pretty cute” or “oh, I like her hair” or shit like that. But from what I can understand, that’s what other girls say to each other, so I really just don’t know.

But like, Ryan. It wasn’t hard to understand that he was gay, I mean, we had plenty of attractive people at our school and he only looked at the guys, so I could easily guess he was batting for the other team and not in between.

I’m cool with that, I totally am-- while I was told to be mormon, mom never really pressured me into it. It was really just the rest of my family, and I only saw them every so often, so it’s all good. Mom supported whoever I wanted to be and said she’d do the same for my friends, so I never grew up with hate.

Fuck, speaking of hate, our school wasn’t too big about it. It, being homosexuality. Ryan would get eaten up alive, and I suddenly felt terrible. I couldn’t let that happen to him. He’s too cute to let get beat up.

Wait, shit, did I just call him cute? I mentally kicked myself.

I would’ve berated myself further for stooping as low as calling him _cute_ (He was, though) if the water hadn’t suddenly turned ice cold.

I muttered a quick “what the fuck” before hopping out of the shower, shivering. When I turned off the water, I heard a soft thundering in the room next to my bathroom-- which happened to be mom’s. Realising she was probably taking a shower herself, I towelled off and dressed lazily, just into some shorts and a shirt that was way too big for me. Probably something mom got for me a couple years back or so, thinking I’d like it.

Anyways, I flopped on my bed and turned on the tv that sat a few feet behind my footboard. As I watched the screen flicker into view, I fumbled with the remote to turn on The Sing-Off, which had to be my favourite show ever.

I tried to stay focused, but my thoughts changed and bounced and scattered so much, I ended up wondering if Ryan sings, and what he sounded like.

 

When I was called for dinner, I shut off the tv and hurried downstairs. Mom had made salmon, which I could smell from upstairs- and I was _hungry._

I sat down at the table, my plate already full. I waited until mom sat with me across the table, before saying a quick “thanks for dinner” to mom, and waiting for her to finish saying grace, before diving in.

“So, any plans for this week yet?” she teased. I swallowed my food before replying.

“Yeah, actually. Can I go see a movie Wednesday and Friday?”

“Two?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna see Frozen with a new kid on Wednesday and Wall Street with Jon on Friday.”

She perked up. “New kid?”

“Mhm. His name’s Ryan, he transferred from a place called Gorman.” I took another bite of salmon.

Mom raised an eyebrow.

“And you're going to go see a movie with him already?”

“I’m just showing him around the town mom, so he knows it when he makes friends.”

She hummed in through.

“You can go on Friday if Ryan goes, too. I don’t trust Jon.”

I shrugged as I wolfed down the rest of dinner, ignoring mom’s adoring, worried gaze.

  
I spent the rest of the night watching old recordings of The Sing-Off until I fell asleep.


	2. London Beckoned Songs About Money Written by Machines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendon overthinks things a lot, you know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! Sorry it's been so long, I meant to upload it sooner but I never got around to typing it up...

The next morning was the same as usual; I tripped over dirty clothes on my way to the shower, gelled my hair and changed into skinny jeans and a tight shirt, and ate a wholesome breakfast of pancakes. The conversations on the bus consisted of the words “God”, “Jesus” and “Church” and I was as pleased to get off as always.

What was different was that instead of just Jon, Gabe and Spencer waiting for me by the door, Ryan was there too, smiling softly at me. I smiled back.

 

The day went by quickly, and before I knew it, it was lunch.

 

I was pleased to find Ryan sitting at the table when I sat down. He was eating a burrito this time, and I watched as beans fell from the end of it.

I dropped my nachos, smirking.

“You’re dripping, Ross,” I alerted, offering him a fork. He accepted it gratefully, scooping up the fallen beans and placing them back in the tortilla.

Spencer joined us, his tray piled high with meats and sandwiches, Jon and Gabe trailing behind him. Jon always brought leftovers for his lunch, and Gabe just kind of ate whatever was being sold in the special line that day.

Sometimes they shared.

Sometimes.

Spencer saw Ryan and narrowed his eyes. “Who’s this?”

“George Ryan Ross the third,” Ryan said.

I rolled my eyes and muttered “King of dramatic titles.”

After looking at his slowly falling apart lunch, I added, “and burritos.”

“What was that?” Ryan questioned, sounding offended.

“You lunch looks volatile,” I replied, sticking my tongue out.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Careful, or someone might bite that.”

There was something in his voice that made my stomach flip and my cheeks heat up. I glanced at my feet, wringing my hands.

That was the moment I decided I had a crush on Ryan Ross.

“No boning the new kid,” Gabe sighed at me. I blushed and hoped nobody could see it

“I’m not gay,” I grumbled. I heard Ryan snort quietly.

I’m not gay.

 

The rest of the day was excruciatingly slow. Seventh period rolled around, and I trudged in Music, backpack heavier than usual although its contents did not change. I saw Ryan sitting in my chair, laughing at Spencer, who seemed to be recounting a tale with Jon.

Spencer went quiet when he saw me before waving me over.

“Brendon, I was just telling Ryan about the time I got you high and you nearly got a waitress to give you a blowjob.”

“Nearly?” Ryan asked.

“She realised he was high and slapped him,” Jon explained. Ryan laughed.

I glanced away. “It wasn't funny.”

Spencer shifted in his seat, grinning.

“Oh please, you came back pouting. Your bottom lip was so far out, i bet Gabe could’ve sat on it.”

“I don’t bout!” I protested. Ryan suddenly laughed again.

“He’s doing it now!” he pointed out. I instantly hid my face.

Jon and Ryan whined at the same time.

“Don’t hide, Brendon, it’s cute,” Ryan said quietly. Jon was right next to him, he had to have heard what Ryan said-- but there was no reaction. I blushed and looked away.

Fucking hell, i hate this kid.

(Not really.)

 

After 7th period, I went home and took a nap. Mom woke me up for dinner, which was spaghetti and meatballs. Afterwards, I went back upstairs and decided to go on some forums and listen to music on my laptop. I turned one Blink-182 and opened up a forum site i go on every so often. Sometimes people are for advice and I like to help.

There was a new question, from a user named ‘iwantthed-string’:

“i recently moved to a new school and theres a person whos really hot and is talking to me a lot. i want to ask for their # but ive only known them for a few days. what should i do?”

I thought for a moment before replying.

“bden-182: just go and ask for their #. once someones asks ppl usually feel like they have to or else they seem rude. try to make a reason, if u have them in any classes ask for their # so u can ask about hwk. then theyll prolly give it to u”

I listened to three more songs before refreshing the page. There were a couple more people with advice, a few agreeing with me, and then the OP’s comment.

“iwanthted-string: thank u bden-182!! ill try that tomorrow!! PS btw i love ur username blink-182 rocks!!”

 

I grinned. Judging by the way they wrote, I guess it was a girl. A girl with a hella cool play on words for a username.

So I added:

“bden-182: tell me how it goes :)”

I pushed my laptop off my lap and thought for a bit. Should I ask Ryan for his number? Maybe I should take my own advice.

I leaned back in my bed, sighing softly. Yeah, I’ll ask him tomorrow.

 

I fell asleep listening to Blink-182’s song, “I’m Lost Without You.”

 

Once I arrived at school the next morning, I saw Ryan waiting for me at the door. I waved to him, watching him jog towards me, grinning.

“Hey Brendon,” he greeted.

“Hi Ryan!”

“Hey, about tonight, it’s fine if the others don’t come,” he started.

I grinned sheepishly, cutting him off.

“Good, ‘cause I may or may not’ve forgotten to ask.”

He laughed and lightly punched me in the shoulder.

“I should’ve known. So what are we gonna do, walk there after school?”

There’s a movie theater a few blocks down the street, a Regal. I go there a lot with Jon because going to see a movie is easier than actually making a plan.

I shrugged. “Sure, why not? Also do you have enough money? If not, I can pay for you.”

“Nah, I got it. Mom was so excited that I was making friends already, she gave me 40 dollars.”

Jon, Gabe, and Spencer came up just as I gave a low whistle.

“Great, then you’re paying for snacks,” I teased. “I only have 25 bucks.”  
Jon raised an eyebrow. “What's going on?”

“Planning your date already?” Gabe snickers. Spencer choked on the water he was drinking.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to blush.

“No, we’re going to the movies tonight-” I was interrupted by Ryan poking me in the side.

“Yes?”

“Can I have your number?”

I was stunned by his forwardness, and judging by the silence next to me, the others were too.   
Ryan’s face suddenly got red and he stared at his feet, pulling at the hem of his shirt.

“For, uh, future reference, like, homework and hanging out and stuff,” he babbled.

I blushed a little more and laughed.

“Yeah, of course, Ross. Here.”

I took his phone once he pulled it out and added myself as a contact.

He had a newer iPhone with the latest update, I noted how his case had musical notes all over it.

“Do you play an instrument?” I asked as I handed his phone back.

Jon interrupted. “He played guitar and he will  _not_ shut up about it during Chem. Anyways, we should get going; the bell’s gonna ring in five minutes.”

Ryan and I shrugged and broke off from the group to go to our lockers.

 

On my way to gym, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to check, and it was a text from an unknown number.

??: helloooo its ryan

I quickly tapped a reply, then added his number to my phone.

B: yo whats up?

R: could u tell mr mangen that im gonna be late?  
B: kay

B: why?  
R: counsellor wants to see me about my time here

B: tell him u met the sexiest person alive and made him ur best friend ;)

R: will do ;P

I was probably blushing pretty badly by the time I got to the locker rooms. I seeked out Mr. Mangen and told him that Ryan Ross (“My friend, Ryan,” I had said, although Mr. Mangen looked doubtfully at my red cheeks) would in fact be late to class because of the counsellor.

He grunted an “okay” and told me to change.

Everybody else had already gone to the gym, so I took my time changing, pulling my shirt off slowly. I heard the door open, but I figured it was just someone coming in after forgetting something, so I didn’t really care-- until I heard a gasp and a loud _WHAM_. I whipped around to see Ryan on the ground, sporting a bloody nose.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” I asked, hurrying over.

He stared at my chest before cramping a hand over his nose.

“Are you okay?” I repeated, worried that he had a concussion. He seemed to hear me that time and nodded quickly, still not looking at my face.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect sobeone to be here,” he said quickly, his speech hindered by the lack of a properly working nose. “You startled be I guess.”

He wasn’t looking at me and his cheeks were bright red, so I figured he was lying, but I wasn’t going to bring it it.

“Hm. Okay,” I mumbled, standing up straight from my bent over position. “Go get washed up, you’ve, like,  bled all over your face and your shirt.”

I tried not to be flattered by the fact that he had been _staring at my chest._

He nodded slowly and took my offered hand to stand up.

“Hey, B’n’den?” he asked tentatively.

“Yeah?”

“Do you habe a shirt I can-”

“Yeah, don’t worry, you can borrow the shirt I was wearing earlier.”

“Wait, what about you?”

“I have an extra,” I said, smiling.

Ryan waited a second, then smiled back.

 

We ended up basically skipping gym, because his nose wouldn’t stop bleeding. I made sure it wasn't broken and him wash the blood off his face. When I heard the whistle for the last five minutes of class from the gym, Ryan changed into my shirt and I put on my extra.

While I was changing, I heard him breathe in deeply and sigh “it smells like you” under his breath.

I tried to calm my quickly heating up cheeks.

 

We went to Music and we somehow made it before the others, so we sat and I put my head down to wait.

I guess I had fallen asleep, because I woke up to a pleasant feeling-- someone playing with my hair. I groaned a little and lifted my head to see Jon pulling his hands away.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said with a smirk. I yawned.

“How long have I been asleep?”

Ryan answered me. “About like, thirty minutes. There’s 23 minutes left in class. Oh, and I did your work. Spencer helped.”

I smiled at Ryan, glancing down to the shirt he was borrowing. It had a guitar on it and said “ROCK” in black, gooey letters. He looked good in it- it was a little big on him around the shoulders and looked like it was about to slide off, but it matched his mottled skinny jeans.

I guess SPencer saw my roving eyes, because he smirked and crossed his arms.

“So Brendon, now that you’re awake, will you tell us why Ryan’s wearing your shirt?”

Ryan blushed softly and looked away, so I guessed i was alone in the recounting of the story.

“I was changing in the locker rooms during gym and he came in, and I guess I like, scared him or something because he ran into a locker and his nose started bleeding. He was like, dripping blood all over his shirt so I lent him mine. That’s it, really,” I ended with a shrug.

Jon frowned. “I was expecting something more exciting.”

“So sorry we didn’t fuck in the locker rooms,” I retorted, my cheeks heating up. Ryan looked away.

 

It was finally after school and Ryan walked with me to my locker.

“So, Frozen,” he said softly.

“We’re probably gonna be the only people in the theater, soooo, like, I’m gonna sing along,” I warned. Ryan smiled at me, chuffing.

“Kay.”

 

Once I had put my books away, we left the school and headed to the Regal down the road.

We were oddly silent for most of the trip, until a kid trotted up next to me and slung an arm around my shoulders.

I recognised him immediately.

“Hey Bren,” he said.

“Hi Charles,” I replied coldly. Ryan stayed quiet.

Charles is someone who tries to get into everybody’s pants, no matter who they were or who they were with. It bugs the ever living hell out of me, mostly because he tends to go after people I’m hanging out with.

“Who’s this cutie with you?” Fuck you.

“Ryan.”

I wanted Charles to go away, I found him so annoying and I didn't want him to start flirting with Ryan, that’s my territory- fuck, _fuck_ , I need to stop.

“Well, hello there Ryan,” Charles cooed.

“Hi.” Ryan’s voice was taut and was glancing at me, obviously uncomfortable.

I knew what Charles was going to say next, the fucking _dick_.

“You wanna ditch B-den and come with me? We can go see a scary movie and you can hide in my lap.”

I narrowed my eyes and suddenly shrugged Charles off before looping an arm around Ryan’s waist, ignoring the quiet squeak that came from him. His body heat somehow still surprised me, but I pulled him in close. I could see the quickly darkening blush on his cheeks from the corner of my eyes, and I fought the urge to smirk.

“It’d be rude to ditch our _date_ ,” I growled. I heard Ryan whisper “d-date?” and I hoped he’d play along, please play along-

Charles narrowed his eyes. “You two?”

I nodded, staring him down. He shifted uneasily and I knew i had won.

“Hm. Sorry B-den, thought you were over guys.”

“No, I’m over you. Can we go see our movie now?”

Ryan let out a quick breath as I pulled him closer.

“Yeah, yeah, go see your movie,” Charles mumbled, shuffling away. Once he was out of sight, I sighed and let go of Ryan. I could still feel his bony frame against my side-

“What was that about?” he practically shrieked. I winced.

“I hate Charles and I need to make him go away, sorry.”

He was silent for a moment, then he said, “you like boys?”

I pursed my lips and looked at my feet.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“But you said you weren’t gay,” Ryan pointed out. “Are you bi?”

“No, I don’t think so. Girls are pretty, but I’ve never been _attracted_ to them.”

“Have you ever been attracted to boys?” he asked in a small voice.

I looked him up and down and nodded.

“Yeah.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'll be sure to get the second chapter up soon!


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